


Help Wanted

by elitemassacre6



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, Domme!Clarke, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Sub!lexa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:31:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7966177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elitemassacre6/pseuds/elitemassacre6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After realizing that Lexa was just out on a first date with one of the most dangerous Dommes in Boston, a typically cold and aloof Clarke makes apparent just how much she cares about her roommate and offers to help her find someone better, someone safe and trustworthy. Lexa decides she'd rather that be Clarke herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When the 'frigid bitch' (Anya's name for her) that was her roommate greeted her as she walked through the door to their apartment, Lexa's already deep frown twisted into something less shaken, angry, disappointment and more confusion. Clarke barely spoke to her most days. Perhaps a handful of words concerning splitting TV time when they weren't studying. Or warning her of the blonde's music being particularly loud while she was working on a project because it helped her focus.

But these occurrences were few and far between. Clarke was kind but typically cold. Especially around people she didn't know. Hence Anya's first impression.

"Hi, Lexa. I cooked. There's pasta in the fridge, and the bottle of wine I opened is on the counter." Clarke said from where she was apparently relaxing on the couch in their living room, which sat at the bottom of the stairs she entered the apartment from. The place was nice. Stupidly so, considering they were both college students. The ceilings were high enough to make up two apartments and the industrial design style was gorgeous with hardwood floors and the giant window that looked out into the city of Boston.

Lexa had never questioned why Clarke had such an amazing place and the look on the blonde's face when anyone mentioned it kept her from wanting to. Clarke was sitting on the couch, book in her lap and glass of white wine in her hand. She swirled it around before she swallowed some down, attracting green eyes to the motion of her throat.

Lexa sighed as she pulled her shoes off and pulled her hair down from the bun she'd put it up into before she'd left for her date, walking into their kitchen to microwave her bowl of what looked like some kind of shrimp Alfredo. The scent of lemon filled the kitchen as it heated, and she smiled as she poured herself a glass of wine and then grabbed her food and a fork, walking over to the opposite couch from the just barely smiling blonde.

She dug in, moaning quietly at the flavors and the way she already felt herself relaxing. She was starving. With a sip of rather delicious wine, she looked up to see the slightly more present smile on pink lips. Clarke's eyes latched onto her own and a pale brow rose above the left one.

"Sorry. I just really needed this. Thank you, Clarke." The blonde nodded, eyes rather stealthily roaming over the brunette's body.  
"Bad date?" She asked simply, setting her book aside and leaning further back against the comfortable couch.

"That's unfortunately an understatement. She was..." How to describe what occurred without giving out too much information? There were certain things she wasn't comfortable with anyone knowing.

"Tell me, if you're comfortable. I won't push you. And I make a very sincere effort to never judge." Clarke explained. Her expression was honest, and her beauty disarming. Lexa wondered, for a moment, what made the blonde want to actually speak to her.

"She wasn't the same as she's been online, then through texting and calls. Too forceful and... I don't know really. Something about being in her presence was unnerving. She talked about doing... I mean she made the immediate assumption that I'd be comfortable enough physically to have sex with her at the first meeting. I didn't even stay for the food. That's the last time I use the Internet to find a - someone to date, I mean." Clarke's expression changed from engagement in her story, to distaste concerning this woman and then obvious anger.

"She didn't touch you right? When you were leaving?" The blonde set her glass aside and sat up, stiff, on the couch. Lexa shrugged with a frown and then a nod. Clarke's eyes examined her once more then stopped on her left arm. She stood up and walked closer, running her fingers gingerly over the hand shaped bruise that was only now really starting to be visible. She growled quietly and left to the kitchen, coming back with an ice pack wrapped in a towel, placing it against Lexa's arm and sitting down next to her to hold it there. 

"She just grabbed my arm and face. Said some things. But a waiter came over and she let me go. I'm fine Clarke. Just maybe a little off balance about the entire thing." Clarke looked up at the mention of her face, scowling at the subtly visible presence of finger shaped bruises around Lexa's immaculate jaw. She left again, coming back with another wrapped ice pack.

"I'll kill her. What did she say?" She asked, usually quite blue eyes stormy and nearly completely grey. Could the color of eyes change like that? And so drastically?

"I... Don't know if I'm okay telling you that. It's a part of something personal to me and people don't tend to get it. They jump to judge quickly and almost never understand. So just...is it okay if we don't talk about Nia anymore?" Clarke's eyes went wide  and dark with rage and she stood, taking a step and half back.

"You've been talking to Nia Quinn?! You went out with her..." Her shock seemed to affect her breathing and she stuttered out a few shaky breaths until she fell back onto the opposite couch, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. Lexa frowned out her confusion. How did Clarke know the woman she'd been speaking to? The woman who would have become her domme for some amount of time, had she been who she seemed to be pretending to be for the last two months.

"You know her? You seem... I mean are you angry with me?" Disappointment from those she cared about or looked up to always hurt her more than anything else. And Clarke fit those parameters and many more. When Clarke didn't say anything, she set her ice packs aside and moved over to the other couch, reluctantly, she reached out a hand and touched the other woman's arm.

She jumped slightly, as if shocked out of being stuck in her mind. She sighed and laid her head back against the couch, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. This was easily the most emotional she'd ever seen Clarke, and certainly the most she'd ever talked to her. It felt good to finally spend time with her like this, and she couldn't help but be disappointed that this wasn't a more common occurrence. 

"Clarke?"

"I'm not angry with you, sweetheart. But if you needed a domme you should've talked to me. I know we don't speak often, but this was important. You can _always_ talk to me. I haven't made that easy to understand, I get that. But you were in danger tonight and I couldn't prevent it because I've been so cold with you." Clarke clarified with a deep, heart wrenching, sigh.

"What do you mean I was in danger?" Lexa, asked, seriously confused and curious. Did Clarke know people from the scene? Perhaps the girl who'd been here a few times, one of the blonde's three rare but occasional visitors. Her visits were the longest and she slept in Clarke's room when she stayed overnight. 

"Nia Kwin is a dangerous woman, Lexa. At least three known submissives of hers have been severely injured or have died in the last five years. She's insane. And she's been banned from nearly every club in the city. Of course she would go online. We should have known. What's important... is that you're safe, Lexa. But if you're still looking for someone you'll feel comfortable submitting to I can help you. There's a club I go to, I know most of the regulars. I can introduce you a few fellow dommes I trust. Okay?" Lexa's eyes widened and she looked at Clarke with what felt like new eyes. The blonde looked back at her, clearly waiting for an answer.

"You're a domme?" Is the clearly idiotic question that came out of her mouth.

"Yes." Clarke answered succinctly, eyebrow raised at her.

"I know. I'm sorry. That was a stupid question. Is the woman who's been here, Raven, a domme?" The woman was exceedingly, ridiculously attractive, yes, but Lexa wasn't asking for herself so much as to get an idea of who Clarke's friends were. The woman's laugh was as much a clarification as her words would have been, but she answered anyway.

"Raven? No. Her personality definitely is, especially in public and with new people, which is part of why she really needs the freedom and release that comes with submitting. She's been unable to find someone to trust with that in the past, however. So I help her every once and a while."

The immediate hurt that filled Lexa's chest to brimming had her frowning and scooting further away from the beautiful, caring, dominant, woman in front of her. When her back touched the arm of the couch, she felt just slightly better with the five or so feet between them, despite the negligible impact it had on her still present hurt.

"Oh." She managed to mumble out.

"Lexa, come here." Clarke's tone was gently commanding, but Lexa shook her head, taking the couch cushion to press it against her chest with arms crossed around it. The domme's frown etched deeper, twisting her lips into a stupidly attractive frown.

"I said come here. Back where you were. And put the cushion away." Her tone lost most of the warmth and took on a firm seriousness.

Everything about her stance, now that she was suddenly standing, promised trouble if Lexa disobeyed what was clearly a command.

When she stood and put the cushion away then walked over to sit, the motion of her legs and thighs told her exactly how wet this was making her.

"I'm sorry." Clarke sat with a sigh. She looked over at Lexa with equal measures of disappointment and understanding.

"Your jealousy is… I understand it. I get jealous when you date, for example. But my scenes with Raven aren’t sexual. They haven't been for almost six months. I give her what she needs and she does the same for me. That all."

"What do you need?" Lexa asked, frowning.

"For her to trust me. To know that I will care of her and provide what I think she needs. For her to in turn, care for me in whichever way I may need."

"Sexually?" Lexa couldn't help asking, that same hurt and jealousy filling her chest once more. She wasn't even sure when these feelings for her roommate first started. She had always found her beautiful and kind, though quiet. Had cherished the rare occasions she'd spent time talking to Clarke or just laying in the living room together reading silently.

"Previously, yes. As I've said, that's not been true recently. Truthfully, Raven has been seeing someone else, though she doesn’t seem to want to tell me who exactly they are." Lexa couldn't deny the way that eased her thoughts of the gorgeous woman on her knees for the Domme across from her and how it made her feel.

"Oh. That's good. I mean, for her, right?" Clarke rolled her eyes, looking into her eyes as if she knew exactly what she meant.

"Yes. Not that that's what you meant. Like I said, your jealousy is understood but just…If you want me, Lexa, you only need to say so. Until then, curb your jealousy. Raven is a friend. I care about her. I won't have you being rude to her."

Clarke told her seriously as she stood and retreated to the kitchen to retrieve the bottle of wine. She poured herself another full glass then relaxed against the couch, retrieving her book. They sat silently for nearly twenty minutes, and Lexa's eyes traced over the blonde's body first. Over her pale, bare feet with blue toenails. Over her strong calves, well sculpted thighs and plump ass. Up to her flat stomach, full breasts and strong, elegant collarbone. Then she looked at her face. Her jaw was strong, as if carved from marble. Her admittedly adorable dimpled chin and pink lips. Lexa eyed her perfect nose and then those eyes. Sky Blue eyes which were currently focused on her own. She sighed as Clarke pulled the tie from her hair. The previous ponytail falling into long, summer wheat colored waves.

"You're beautiful, Clarke." She let fall from her lips before the lower one was once again trapped between her lips.

"So you've said." Lexa frowned in confusion, trying to think of an instance in which she would have revealed her opinion before.

"I have?"

"A few months ago. You went out with your friends and came back about as drunk as I've ever seen you. You barely made it in the door without falling on your ass. I carried you to bed, put you in your pajamas, tucked you in. You thanked me with a surprise kiss and told me I was beautiful afterwards. You fell asleep before I could respond." There was amusement in her tone, which had Lexa feeling maybe a bit less embarrassed, but not much. She chuckled awkwardly and shook her head.

"Oh, well I'm sorry. I was probably a mess. Thank you for taking care of me. I know you probably had something better to do." Clarke set her book aside and turned to face her, taking Lexa's tired, still rather achy feet into her lap, already starting to massage them before Lexa could tell her it wasn't necessary.

"Sweetheart, There are very few things I could ever personally do that would be better than taking care of you. I'm here. Whenever you need me, Lexa. Do you understand?" She looked at her, eyes serious and caring while her hands worked away all the aches and pains she'd been carrying in first her feet, then her ankles.

"Yes. Thank you. But what about you? Who takes care of you?" She asked with a fair amount of hope that it could be her. It was easy to jump to a conclusion that Clarke was hurt and perhaps even broken to some deep level. Lexa could often see it in her eyes and the way she smiled at the few pictures of hers on the walls. One especially, which held who Lexa knew must be her father.

"No one does. Not anymore…Not for a long time now. So I do my best alone."

"You aren't alone, Clarke. I'm here. I want to be here with you. I care about you. If you want someone to take care of you the way Raven used to, I would like for that to be me." The pale hands had been working up her legs, from her feet up to where they were now, five or so inches above her knee. If it continued this way, the dampness in her panties would soak through even further. Would wet her thighs. Then Clarke's fingers.

"You're sure?" The blonde asked, halting her hands despite Lexa's quiet whine of protest.

"Yes. Please." Clarke nodded then stood and walked away towards her room without a word. Lexa frowned as she waited for the blonde to return. When she did, she came back to the couch holding paperwork and pencils.

"It's important that we know about each other's limits and boundaries to be as safe as possible. So I want to you think about things you are and aren't comfortable with and put them here. Then when we understand it all, we can write up a contract that'll detail everything. We'll do that tomorrow. Alright?"

"So you can't touch me tonight?" Was one of Lexa's main concerns right now. Because she knew she shouldn't touch herself and it had been so long since she had any release at all that she craved it badly now.

"No, sweetheart. I'm sorry. I know you're already wet for me." Lexa frowned and let loose a quiet whimper as she started filling out the rather official looking questionnaire in front of her. When it was done, she flipped the page to find three columns which simply read yes, maybe, no. She quickly filled in the no column. Humiliation, shaming, inclusion of other dommes or subs, cat O nine tails, and anything that applies a shock. Age play, kitten and puppy play. When she felt moderately satisfied with the hard limit list, she moved over for the maybe column.

After a moment of thought, she wrote down anal, though she'd never tried it. She'd heard wonderful things. Back over to the no column. Fisting.

Clarke was peering over her shoulder now, and when she looked over at her lists, she could see they were already filled out with pen, the ink long dry. She'd already had it done it seemed. She finished off her maybe list with queening then quickly filled out her yes column.

"Got that done pretty quick. Are you sure about what you wrote down?"

"Yes. Can we do the contract now? We just compare lists and whatever is on one of our hard limit columns is a no and if one is a yes for one of us but a maybe for the other it goes in that column, right?" Clarke shook her head.

"That's important yes, but the contract states the safeword and more important things. Like the purpose of our dominant/submissive relationship, the length of that temporary relationship, and both our promises to fulfill our positions to our best ability.

"Temporary?" And there was that hurt again, twice as hot in her chest and behind her eyes.

"Yes. Do you even know what it would mean for us to have a permanent relationship of this type? Besides, you aren't going to always want to be mine, sweetheart. It's not like I don't know you only want me now because you know you can trust me better than whatever virtual stranger I'd have set you up with. You'll meet someone and you'll want to submit to them instead. Setting a term of a few weeks or perhaps a month or two allows me to curb my expectations and know what we're getting into." She explained it all as if it was fact. As if there was no way Lexa could ever want to just... Be _hers_.

Was this about what happened with Raven? To think that the woman she was still pretty damn jealous of had affected she and Clarke's relationship already... Her anger was immediate, but she didn't actually mean to do what she did next. 

"I don't _want_ anyone else!" She yelled, though the volume and energy of her outburst was accidental. Her hands were in tight fists at her sides and there was an angry pout to her lips. Clarke stood, shorter than her but with a far larger presence. Her brow was raised and already, the disappointment and anger in her eyes made Lexa want to fall to her knees.

"Sit. Down." Was all she uttered, finger pointed where Lexa had been sat before.

"No. I don't want anything temporary Clarke, _please_." She pleaded defiantly. Clarke's look at her refusal sent a shiver down her uncovered spine and she swallowed nervously, somehow even more turned on. This woman just... Did things to her.

"Do you even realize what being in an indefinite D/s relationship with you would _feel_ like without a romantic relationship to support it? Have you thought about it? And what are you even _asking_ for, Lexa? Something that we're always engaged in when we're home or just the one or two scenes a week we can probably fit into our schedules? Before you answer me either sit your misbehaving ass down or I expect you on your knees. You disobey me again, and I'll touch you, for sure. But definitely not how you wanted. Do you understand me, Alexandria?" The usage of her entire first name had her frowning and falling to her knees, head down. It wasn't entirely comfortable in her dress, which rode rather far up her thighs; but God did the position feel right.

"I'm sorry, Clarke. You're right about the temporary contract being the right choice. It was wrong of me to raise my voice at you, but just… _please_ understand I truly don't want anyone else. _Ever_."

It was the truth, she knew that. But she had to consider what she wanted. For months now, when she'd gotten home from a hard or draining day where she knew she needed to hand over her control she'd had to essentially walk it off. More recently she'd perhaps speak with Nia when her stress was less pressing. They'd essentially have a version of phone sex that was less sex and more her submitting through imagery they created together. Sometimes it left her feeling better. Other times just needy and unable to touch herself because of the other domme's orders.

But now... Now she couldn't help but want to come home to Clarke in an entirely different way. But the truth was, they wouldn't have time. The blonde's school workload was heavier than hers, but they both spent most of their time home studying. With her in her first year in the Harvard Biochem masters program, and Clarke at MIT in her last year for her atomic/molecular physics grad program, neither of them would have time for her to want and need to submit most days.

Though she couldn't deny that sometimes it would likely satisfy to just sit at her knees, leaning against Clarke's thigh while she played with her hair. That... That sounded good. Especially if it would keep Clarke from stressing herself out as she sometimes did while studying from textbooks whose nearly every word went over her head.

There was snapping of fingers near her ears and she shook her head to clear it of the fog that had somehow filled it when she wasn't paying attention. Had her mistress being speaking? The thought of disappointing or angering her again had Lexa feeling like maybe she was already fucking everything up as always.

"Hey. Are you with me? Look at me, sweetheart. What's wrong? You falling asleep?" She looked concerned, it was late and they’d both had long days.

"I'm sorry, mistress. I'll do better. Were you speaking to me?" Clarke sighed and pulled one hand from Lexa's sculpted cheek to run it through her thick, curly hair.

"It doesn't matter for now. Why don't you go get dressed for bed, okay? I'll go over the lists. Oh, and I'm not a huge fan of the honorifics. Ma'am is alright if you must, but otherwise, just use my name where you would those titles." Lexa nodded, letting her head drop back down as Clarke released her to sit back on the couch.

"Yes, Clarke." She got up to walk to her room, assuming that running may earn her extra spanks on her ass if that was what was coming. In many ways, she hoped it was. The clean slate that came after a punishment was it's greatest positive, she thought. When she reached her room, she pulled the blood red dress over her head and pulled a pair of shorts and a tshirt on in it's place. When she returned to the couch , Clarke was waiting, and motioned to her lap for Lexa to lay herself over.

The brunette did as she was told as she followed directions, grabbing the blonde's ankle to steady herself out of instinct. She wondered how many she would get. She could take pain, and plenty of it, but it still hurt, and it'd been a while since she'd taken a beating. Not that that's what this was.

"So let's see, sweetheart. What do you think you deserve for what you've done wrong?" The question was spoken softly, and Lexa bit into her lips before speaking honestly when a hand started rubbing gently over her ass. It was soothing, and after a few moments, she relaxed, her fear fading somewhat.

"20, Clarke. Ten for yelling at you. And another ten for disobedience." It felt like the right decision. She'd already broken two gigantic rules and honestly felt kind of horrible for making things for Clarke harder than they needed to be. She always did this. Caused more trouble than she was worth.

"Twenty. Hmm. That sounds reasonable. Now listen to me, Lexa. Do not get up unless I command you to. And try to contain your squirming for me, alright?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Am I... Do you want me to count and thank you?"

"No, baby. Nothing so serious. But you may count." Was the last thing said before a palm was slapping down against her right cheek. It stung but barely. She breathed out the count to calm herself.

"One, Ma'am." This continued on, gaining power, until ten, at which point the sting was harder to ignore and the immediate pain had her ass throbbing and probably pink below her shorts, which were now being pulled down.

"Ten, Ma'am!" The next several were truly painful, but she'd had worse, and between every couple Clarke would try to soothe her skin despite the fact she didn’t deserve it.

"Seventeen, Ma'am!" She cried out, her tears dripping past her lips. She hated that she'd made Clarke have to do this. Her palm was probably hurting and Lexa knew she was probably gripping her ankle too hard and was maybe a heavy burden of unnecessary weight on her lap. A _burden_. That described her perfectly.

"Eighteen, Ma'am." Clarke shushed her sobs and she closed her mouth, her breathing rushed and ragged through her noise. She was probably too loud. Their apartment was apparently sound proofed, but that wouldn't help Clarke's ears.

"Nineteen, Ma'am!" She couldn't wait until this was over. Clarke would want to be rid of her, of course. And she could just go sleep away the physical and emotional pain that came with ruining what her mistress had probably planned to be a quiet, easy, night off. Maybe she deserved more, but she wouldn't bother Clarke. She could find a way to hurt herself and leave the blonde woman to whatever she had intended to be doing.

"Twenty, Ma'am!" Clarke hushed her, rubbing her sore ass tenderly and then spreading some kind of lotion on it that cooled the hot sting and the soreness before she pulled Lexa's shorts back up and pulled her up into her arms.

"Shh, sweetheart. You're okay. It's over. Everything is okay, now. You did so good, baby. I've got you." Lexa lifted her arm and wrapped it around the domme's neck to sob into it instead of ruining the woman's shirt before trying to stand, sobbing further when the blonde wouldn't release her.

"I'm sorry, Clarke. I'll... I can just go. I didn't mean to ruin your night. I always ruin everything." Clarke let her pull back, but only enough to look at her with a confused expression.

"What are you talking about?"

"You probably... You wanted a quiet night and I ruined it. And then I was bad and I made you have to punish me. And your hand probably hurts, and I weigh too much. And I gripped your ankle too hard. I'm sorry. I can go. I forgot that I ruin everything. I don't want to ruin everything for you."

Clarke sighed with a thoughtful frown and brought Lexa's forehead to rest against hers. She wiped green eyes of tears, then pressed a chaste kiss against the distraught woman's lips.

"You haven't ruined anything, baby. My night is better just because you're here. My hand is completely fine, and you're definitely not heavy. You didn't grip my ankle too hard either. And we're okay about what happened earlier. Clean slate, sweetheart. You're my good girl. Understand?" Typically, she wouldn't. When Anya, Lincoln, or Emori told her things were fine, that she hadn't fucked up, she didn't believe them, rather - she _couldn't_. But Clarke's words rang true, and she couldn't help but want to believe in her and the trust she held in the blonde's words.

"Yes, Clarke. I'm sorry. Thank you for taking care of me. I'm going to... I mean, did you want to go back reading your book? Would you like for me to leave you alone?" Clarke shook her head and lay back against the couch, blue eyes watching Lexa fidget on her lap. Her submissive's attention on the rug floor beneath them.

"Of course not, Lexa. I’d love for you to stay close, beautiful. I think it’ll make us both feel better. Just relax, I’ll finish my chapter, I think." Clarke picked up her book, and within a minute, was buried in it's narrative. Remembering her earlier fantasy, Lexa climbed down onto the floor and to her knees, resting her head against a strong thigh. She relaxed, eyes tracing pale fingers as they turned the page. A few minutes later, Clarke buried a hand in her hair, raking blunt nails against Lexa's scalp. With a satisfied sigh, Lexa let herself relax completely, her right hand coming around to massage her mistress' calf.  
-  
By the time Clarke stopped reading, she'd finished two chapters instead of the one she had intended on. With a glance at her watch she could see that nearly forty five minutes had passed. Her arm was maybe a tad sore from carding her fingers through Lexa's hair, and the older woman was still kneeling there, against her.

Green eyes were locked in her direction, yet unfocused. Feeling a little worried, she reached her hand back down and caressed Lexa's left cheek, frowning when nothing changed but the woman leaned into the touch with a soft hum. Since it'd worked last time, she snapped her fingers a few times and watched as Lexa suddenly blinked and then looked up at her with a dazed, adoring smile.

"Yes, Clarke ? Did you want me to get something for you?" Clarke's frown deepened and she shook her head, motioning with her fingers for Lexa to stand. The brunette tried, but her ass was sore and her legs probably felt like jelly, so her fall forwards wasn't so unexpected. She caught her and picked her up, pulling long legs around her hips. After switching off the light, she headed to her bedroom and laid Lexa down on the right side before she climbed in on the left.

"Are you with me? I think you fell pretty deep while you kneeled." Lexa shrugged, the soft grin on her face still present.

"I'm okay. It's never happened before. Is that okay?" She asked, the grin slipping from her lips.

"Of course it is, sweetheart. Let's get some sleep. We've got the contract to work on tomorrow." Lexa nodded as Clarke pulled her closer to cuddle against her. She sighed in pure comfort, head resting against Clarke's ample chest, an arm around her waist, their legs tangled together. It was exactly what she needed.

  
//

  
"So we're... It's done, right? And we can renew at the end of term?" Lexa asked as Clarke handed her a folder with their signed and finished paperwork in it.

"If you would like to at the time, yes." Clarke said succinctly, sliding her folder into a bigger file holder.

"You don't want to?" She asked quietly, treading carefully and watching her tone this time.

"It doesn't matter what I want, Lexa. What will matter is what you want." She told her, keeping her gaze turned away until she left, disappearing into her office to put her things away. When she came back, she sat back on the couch, still without looking at Lexa. 

"Clarke...   _I_ care about what you want. You're what matters to me. But I guess you don't like talking about it, so you're right, we'll talk about it in a month." She said, falling back onto the couch dejectedly. How was any of this supposed to work when Clarke wouldn’t talk to her? Wouldn’t trust her?

Maybe the blonde was really only doing this for her. Maybe she didn’t want it… want Lexa… at all.

“We will.” Lexa’s heart sank. Why wouldn’t those azure eyes find her own? Was she right?

“You don’t have to do this for me if it isn’t what you really want. I would understand. Clarke. I know I’m a mess. I know that I ask too much, but please just tell me if… if I’m pushing this on you. You’re the last person I want to hurt. I want to be… To be better. Better for _you_ , Clarke. And half of the reason I wanted to do this was so that I could give you whatever it is you might need and I thought this was it, but if isn’t, just tell me what I can do, _please_.”

With the way Clarke looked at her when she finally did, lifting her head from her shaking hands to aim teary eyes at the brunette, Lexa couldn’t help but wonder why she’d been allowed to finish speaking at all. She looked equally devastated and furious and Lexa didn’t know what to do. She fell silently to her knees, eyes focused on the soft rug below her, shoulders trembling as she tried to determine what she’d said or done wrong and how to fix it.

She _hated_ it. How right her father had turned out to be about her. How useless she was, her propensity for ruining everything she touched.

Seconds later, there were gentle hands on her face and her domme fell to her own knees in front of her, dragging her gaze up to meet the stormy blue of Clarke’s own.

  
“Lexa, no. That isn’t it at all, sweetheart. The choice is up to you because I will always, _always_ want you. Do you understand? That’s why I have to put it in your hands. Because I don’t want anyone else, baby. Alright?” Her eyes were honest and pained, that hurt seeming to fill her entire being.

  
“You’re sure?” Lexa had to ask, her voice tiny and desperate, needy. Clarke nodded, leaning up a bit to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“I’m _sure_ , love.”

  
“Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings… or to make you mad at me. I just didn’t understand, and you wouldn’t look at me.”

“I’m not angry with _you_ , Lexa. I’m _furious_ at whoever hurt you. Whoever made you think you aren’t the _wonderful_ , beautiful woman you are. Whoever it was, whatever they said, _none_ of it was true. You aren’t a burden, sweetheart.” Lexa shook her head in fervent disagreement, knowing full well that she was. That she’d always been.

  
“ _Baby_ …” Clarke’s shoulders shook as she forced down what seemed like a heavy sob, a devastated whimper escaping her throat before she could stop it.

  
“Don’t you understand? How much more fulfilled I am? How much more wonderful my life has been since you came into it? You’re a joy to be around. You’re kind, and caring, sweet, intelligent, and so, so beautiful. You’re everything anyone could ever want, Lexa. You’re everything _I’ve_ always wanted. Please don’t let that voice in your head take that away from you.” The tears came before she could stop them, and Clarke let them fall, caressing the strong curve of Lexa’s jaw with her softest, surest touch, connecting their lips barely a second later.

She was gentle, taking things slowly and caressing Lexa’s blushing cheeks with her thumbs as she carefully claimed her mouth. When she separated them, that soft eyed adoring gaze causing Lexa’s anxieties to fall away for the first time in what felt like forever, she finally stood and led the brunette to the couch where she lay down over top of her. Her presence took over Lexa’s senses, and she submitted, letting herself be healed slowly. caress by caress, gentle, exploring kiss by kiss.  
-  
When Clarke woke, the sun was just setting, casting various shades of orange and purple across the walls and floor. She shifted just slightly, sighing as she lifted herself up onto first her elbows and then her arms, her eyes taking in the beauty that was Lexa, lips shadowed deep pink from the tinted sunlight. Her heart ached in her chest when she thought of the way Lexa perceived herself.  
This astounding woman, her beautiful girl, was so much more than she could see. As far as Clarke was concerned, she was everything.

Just as flawed as anyone else, but so worthy of love, compassion, and comfort. 

Rage once again crawled under her skin at the thought of whoever hurt Lexa, and she pushed herself off of the couch, careful not to wake the still slumbering beauty. After she’d placed the throw blanket over her, Clarke stalked out of the living room and down the hall to the decent sized fourth bedroom she’d converted into a small gym. Within moments she had her hands wrapped and was slipping gloves on, glaring at the heavy bag that would have to take the place of the monster who had twisted Lexa’s mind against herself.

Her hands trembled, chest quaking as the first sob left her throat. She struck the bag with a heavy right, hitting it again as the first few tears fell.

It was rare these days that she felt like this. Broken, vengeful, and filled with a barely collared rage. When she was younger, after everything that had happened with first Wells and then her father, her knuckles had seemed to be bruised and painful more often than they weren’t.

She’d eventually overcome that sort of malicious intent to destroy anything or anyone who hurt those she loved, but every now and again, horrible things would happen or be revealed, and it became a race for her to calm the monster inside her or very much hurt someone.

And Lexa? God, she’d never felt for anyone the way she felt for Lexa. With her awe inspiring green eyes, kind smiles, and caring, thoughtful personality, it had been impossible not to fall in love with her.

She knew she’d been pretty cold towards her, though. Distant and aloof, defensive and prone to shutting down completely when asked about how she’d come into ownership of the condo, or about her family. Her father especially. 

It had all become a way to protect not only herself but those around her. If she didn’t get close to anyone, didn’t let herself fall into that same old trap, it would be for the better. If she let herself love someone again, she knew what would happen.

She had only loved three people in her life and two of them were dead. Both of them because of her. She couldn’t let that become Lexa. Wouldn’t _dare_ strip the world of this particular shining star.

The problem was she already did love Lexa, and she didn’t know how to protect her from herself or even if she could. By the time she’d exhausted herself the only thing she could think of was protecting her.

Someone had truly hurt her in the worst of ways, turning her mind against her, emotionally abusing and manipulating her. Hearing the way her submissive thought about herself the night before had been devastating, and Clarke knew she had to do everything she could to try and heal her however she could in whatever ways she could.

Her pain did matter, but nowhere near as much as taking care of Lexa. And she knew, as she peeled off her now bloody hand wraps, that she needed to take care of herself if she was to give Lexa everything she needed from her. So it was with a heavy heart that she picked up her phone off the nearby bench and dialed, bloody hands grabbing far too hard on the phone as she paced. The phone rang twice before the woman on the other end picked up, voice just and calming and soft as always.

“Clarke. I’m very glad you called. Have you changed your mind? Did you want to make an appointment?” Dr. Indra Porter was both a professor and a practicing counselor. Clarke had needed at least one class a couple of years ago that wasn’t mainlining into her major and Psych had been it. Over the semester of interactions and class debates, Indra had come to see how unhealthy Clarke was in that way and had suggested that they could meet to talk, but Clarke had refused. Now though she had someone more important than herself to worry about.

“Yes, please. Whenever you’re available, Indra. I’m sorry for how I blew up before. I know you were only try to help. I don’t really deal well with that. Feeling like anyone pities me.”

“I don’t pity you Clarke. And if you’re willing to work on it, we can work through some of those issues I brought up before together. It’s important to be invested in the state of your own mental health, but you’re not alone, Clarke. Now, I know you’re class schedule is heavy, so just let me known when you’re available.”

“I have today off, but then I’m busy for the next week or so. Do you know what hours you have open next week?”

“Today is fine, little one, I’m free all day."

“Can I meet you in half an hour? The reason I called… it’s important to me, Indra. I want to be better.” There was a soft sigh on the other end of the line, and Clarke could tell she was worried about her.

“I’ll see you then, goufa. Goodbye.” Indra hung up and Clarke set her phone aside, going through the steps of cleaning her raw hands with a deep sigh. She hated to worry Indra. The woman had become something like a stand in mother figure since they’d met in that first psych class, giving her advice, becoming a sounding board, and even inviting the grad student over to her home for family functions.

It had been six months since they’d said a word to each other. All because of Clarke and her stubborn inability to listen to people who knew better than her.

She stripped then hopped in the shower, hissing when hot water sprayed on her knuckles.

Lexa would probably sleep for another few hours, so she’d leave her a note explaining she had a meeting with a professor before she left. It was a partial truth, yes. But Clarke felt the best idea was to make something of this chance for help before she had to sit down and explain to Lexa why she needed it.

She knew her roommate wouldn’t think any less of her for it, and it was with that thought that she shut off the shower and climbed out to get ready, determined to be on time and do all of this right for once. 


	2. Chapter 2

When Lexa woke, it was to a quiet apartment and an otherwise empty couch. She was warm due to the blanket covering her, but Clarke was noticeably absent, and Lexa sighed when that familiar longing for the blonde built up in her chest. 

Waking up in Clarke’s arms that morning had clearly spoiled her, and she couldn’t help but be disappointed that she hadn’t woken up that way just now. Sitting up as she wiped her eyes, Lexa caught sight of a note laying on the coffee table and picked it up with a smile. 

‘Morning again, beautiful, I hope you rested well. I had to leave for a short meeting with my professor, but I’ll be home by noon. Text me with what you’d like for lunch, okay? Sys, Clarke.’ 

Something about being written to, even in this abbreviated form, warmed Lexa’s heart. Her childhood had been… difficult, to say the least. So she’d never truly had friends. Not until she was old enough to escape and begin building a life for herself. 

She’d never been written a letter, there were no childish love notes in her past. So there was something special about this no matter how ordinary the topic. It was eleven forty five, and she was pretty darn hungry, actually. So she picked up her phone, ready to text Clarke, craving something warm and spicy despite the warm weather outdoors. 

Before texting Clarke though, she decided to quickly shower and get dressed. Half an hour later, she was in her favorite clothes. An old comfortable worn in pair of jeans and a red sox shirt Clarke had given her for Christmas one year. 

Just as she opened a text to Clarke, the door opened, and Clarke walked in, bag full of fragrant food in hand. 

“Clarke, hi. I was just about to text you about lunch. I just woke up. How was the meeting with your professor?” Finally descending the stairs and setting the bag with their lunch on the kitchen counter, Clarke came over and gently grasped Lexa’s pink cheeks in her hands, laying a kiss against her forehead. 

“Actually it was… it went better than I thought it would. It was important that I go but I was simultaneously afraid I’d either ruin the chance by being unable to contain my anger or generally be unable to talk at all.” Clarke said with a soft smile, walking back to the kitchen to grab bowls and spoons then bringing the bag back to the coffee table. 

Lexa frowned in concern, wondering what the meeting could’ve possibly been about. 

Clarke doled out noodles, broth, and meat into both bowls before she set the container of condiments between the bowls and opened it up, going through the familiar routine of loading up her Pho. 

“Is it okay for me to ask what your meeting was about? This professor isn’t… I mean they aren’t-“

“Oh, no, sweetheart. Nothing like that. The professor was Indra.”

“Lincoln’s mom Indra?” Clarke nodded, leaning over to make Lexa’s bowl of soup for her, well aware of what the brunette preferred. 

“Yes. She’s also a practicing ‘shrink’, you know. Indra suggested months ago that she thought she could help me, but I blew up about it. It wasn’t until this morning, after everything, that I called her and then went in to talk to her.” Lexa’s furrowed brow, lip biting, thoughtful expression was adorable, but Clarke readied herself for questions. 

“Did I say something wrong, or hurt your feelings?”

“No, sweetheart. Not at all. The case is, to be sort of frank about it, that someone has hurt you Lexa. They manipulated your ability to see yourself as you are, and emotionally and mentally abused you. When I realized all of that this morning, I realized that I need to take care of my own emotional and mental health issues if I’m to take care of you the way you need. I’m not disregarding your need and right to take care of yourself, but I care about you, baby. I hope that together, we can start to turn some of that around. Our relationship as Domme and Sub is only a small part of that. You deserve love, and I plan to give you that. Do you understand? If I’ve overstepped by thinking I can help, then please tell me.”

“You talked to Indra about me?” Lexa asked with a sad, worried, frown. 

“No, love. Of course not. I didn’t even mention you of my own volition. I went to her only to handle my own depression and anger issues. I’d never tell her anything you didn’t expressly allow me to. She did ask about you. How I was coping with still having someone here with me, and about how things were between us as roommates. I told her we were doing pretty good, becoming more comfortable with each other over time, but that was all, I promise.” Lexa nodded, finally starting to eat, a tiny smile curving her lips. 

“And she’s helping you? I know this was only the first appointment, but… was it okay to actually start talking about everything? I’ve always been afraid that anyone I went to talk to would judge me. Would… you know, as they started to hear everything, they'd start to believe about me what he said.”

“I understand. But Indra wasn’t like that. She actually… she made me feel better about some things I thought were written in stone, and the longer we talked the easier it got. It was the first time and I already feel like somethings changing for the better. “

It was only then that Clarke reached for her chopsticks, ready to eat, only to wince when she flexed her dominant left hand. She’d nearly completely forgotten what she’d done to them earlier and wasn’t really all that concerned about it, but now Lexa had seen. 

She gasped and got up, running towards the bathroom for the first aid kit. Clarke was positive it wasn’t needed, regardless of the fact that the cuts on her sore knuckles were opening up again, blood flowing between her fingers. She really should’ve bandaged them earlier. She leaned forward to set her hands on the glass coffee table instead of letting the blood drip onto the couch. 

“Clarke! What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else?” Lexa sprinted back into the room, gently taking Clarke’s hands and laying them in her lap to get to work. 

“I’m fine. And I’m not hurt, I did this myself. I may have gone a little crazy on the heavy bag while you were sleeping. Like I said. Anger issues.”

“Clarke, please don’t do this again. You obviously pushed yourself too far if you got cut through your wraps. Did…did I make you mad? Is that what this is about?” 

Lexa’s eyes seemed to dim to near complete stormy gray, and as she was finished cleaning and bandaging the cuts on Clarke’s hands, she released them, scooting away from her on the couch before she finally just stood, her stance a little shaky and a look in her eyes Clarke had never seen before. 

“Baby, please sit down. I told you, remember? I’m not mad at you. I was just having some trouble dealing with my issues on top of how furious I am at whoever it was that hurt you. Working out was the only way I could think of to calm down and I just needed to be rid of the rage. I needed to hit something.” 

Clarke knew those were probably the wrong words as soon as they fell from her lips. Lexa clenched her eyes shut tight before she took another step back, her posture suddenly docile and submissive. Her eyes were massively sad while simultaneously caring and defeated. 

“Do you need to hit me?” Clarke stood carefully, making sure to make no sudden moves. When she was close enough, she gently pulled her sub into her arms, caressing her back and sides with her most tender touch.

“No, baby. I don’t want to hit you or hurt you, ever. Okay? Even during a scene, that is not ever meant to harm you. It’s always about your pleasure, okay? I’m not angry with you at all. Okay, love? Do you understand?” Still careful and slow with the way she moved, Clarke pulled Lexa into a hug and lay them back on the couch, her fingers tracing the tattoo on Lexa’s back. 

“Okay. I’m so sorry. I’m a wreck. I don’t know why I said that. You’re nothing like him. It’s been a long time, but being with you is the first time I’ve been close to anyone like this. Close relationships of any kind have always been out of my reach. It’s just… he used to convince me it was all my fault. He would pretend everything was okay for stretches. Up to a few weeks. Then he’d make me think the abuse was my idea. All the mind games… I know they broke me. He ruined me.”

“None of it was your fault, sweetheart. No matter what he said and did. You, like me, are a victim of abuse, but that doesn’t make you anymore broken than me or anyone else. And learning about what happened to you doesn’t make me see you any differently or care about you any less, kay?” Lexa’s soft, adoring, gaze had Clarke leaning up to lay a tender kiss upon her lips. 

“Okay. Thank you for caring about me, Clarke. It’s not really something I’m very used to. I have Anya and Lincoln and Emori, obviously, but I didn’t find Anya until my third year of undergrad. She’s my cousin, so I got lucky there, I guess. But Lincoln and Emori are the only other people in my life who love me because they want to. Because they genuinely care.”

“I understand completely. Though I’m not really sure who I have that way anymore. All my friends, they seem to be pulling away from me. I feel like I must have done something wrong, or that there’s something wrong with me… but maybe they’re just busy? I hope they’re just busy. I’m accustomed to being alone, but I don’t like the person loneliness turns me into. It feels like depression just swallows me whole and I lose myself in that pain. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah…You describe it perfectly.”

“Hmm. The upside now is that I’m always here when you need me and I hope I can say the same about you.”

“Of course you can. I don’t know how but I’m sort of tired. Can we cuddle, Ma’am?”

“After we eat, baby. I know you’re hungry.” Lexa just nodded, picking up her already perfectly made bowl of noodles and digging in while Clarke used her spoon to minimize the pain from her knuckles. 

When they’d both finished and Clarke left to the kitchen to clean everything up, Lexa fell to her knees beside the couch, relaxing as she gazed at their floor, gently caressing her own thighs. A few minutes later, a kiss was pressed against her hair. 

“Stay here, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

“Yes, Clarke.” It only took the domme thirty seconds to return, and then she was back, kissing the nape of Lexa’s neck and sliding a collar of cool leather around it. 

“We clasp it together, okay?”

“Yes, please.” Lexa raised her hands, and together they slid the leather through the clasp and locked it. Clarke came around in front of her to take a look, guiding her subs chin up to gaze in her eyes. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby girl. God, look at you. And this is okay, right?” 

“Yesss…Clarke.” She moaned out, already far more turned on than she thought she’d be the first time Clarke slipped her collar on. 

“Hmm. Are you turned on, Lex? Want a change of plans? I could touch you instead.” Her voice seemed to pick up more of that familiar, sexy, husk. And it only managed to flood Lexa’s panties even further. 

“Can… Clarke, please.” The domme sat on the couch, drawing Lexa up onto her lap then unbuttoning her shirt to pull it off. Her abs were firm and toned, and Lexa couldn’t help but imagine being allowed to rut herself against them until she came. 

“Before I touch you I need to know, baby. Are you wet for me?” 

“God, Clarke yes. Dr-dripping.” The domme’s eyes darkened until they seemed the color of the deep sea, and she reached down to pop the brass clasp of Lexa’s jeans. 

“Good. I’m going to need some proof though, Lexa. Show me. But don’t try and fuck yourself or I may not let you come at all tonight, and who knows when we’ll next have the time for this.” 

She pushed Lexa’s hand down under her underwear, biting her lip at what could only be the sight of her hand moving underneath the drenched fabric. 

Lexa sighed as she pushed her fingers down to where she was still gushing wetness, dipping her fingers just inside to gather some before she pulled out and raised her hand to show her domme. Her fingers were quite literally dripping with her arousal and Clarke’s eyes went black at the sight. 

“Baby… look at you. Such a good girl being so ready for me.” Before she could respond, Clarke was sucking her fingers clean, moaning around them as she did until she released them with a wet pop. 

“Clarke… please.”

“I’ve got you baby. Hold on to me.” Lexa did as told, wrapping her arms around Clarke’s shoulders as the blonde stood, supporting her lower half by placing gentle hands under her still sort of sore ass, giving it a much appreciated squeeze halfway to her bedroom. Once she’d laid her down on the bed, she stood again to begin pulling off the rest of her clothes. 

Lexa couldn’t help but gasp once she could see all of her, suddenly itching to touch and lick over every beautiful inch of exposed skin. Once her domme reached for her to start pulling of her own clothes, however, she remembered how ugly and scarred her own body was and scooted away, cowering against the headboard. 

“Y… yellow!” She didn’t want to stop, not really. She just thought it might be best to warn Clarke before hand. Make sure she knew she wouldn’t be getting a perfect body like her own. But one that bore the evidence of her abuse. 

“Okay baby. Let’s slow this down. We’re okay, sweetheart. Are you okay to tell me what’s wrong?”

“My body… Clarke. It’s not like yours. It’s not beautiful and… And flawless. I’m scarred and there are burns. All proof of what he did to me. My back was his canvas and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I just. I didn’t want you to be surprised when you saw what a mess I am, Clarke.” Her domme nodded, carefully crawling on the bed until she sat in front of her. 

“I understand, Lexa. Just… you know, none of the abuse I took was permanent. Many, many, bruises for example. Broken bones, black eyes. I came away physically unscathed. But I want you to know that I don’t see you any differently. Scarred and burned or not. You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known and that won’t change no matter what. If you need for this to go forward with your clothes on, baby, I’m perfectly fine with that. If you need to stop, that’s okay too. We can just cuddle. That’s become one of my favorite things to do with you. But thank you for telling me and for slowing things down when you needed to. I’m proud of you. You’re my good girl, Lexa.”

“Can we just cuddle and watch a documentary? There’s… um. There’s a new squid one on demand.” Clarke just smiled at her, the softest smile she’d ever gotten from anyone, and she felt genuinely loved as Clarke turned on the tv and handed Lexa the remote, walking towards her dresser to grab a set of shorts and a t-shirt that Lexa was sure was hers. 

“Course we can, love.”

“Is that my shirt?”

“Yeah. I steal it back every once and awhile so it always smells like you. That okay?” Lexa just nodded with a smile as Clarke climbed into the bed and lay down, encouraging her to lay her head on her chest so she could see the tv perfectly.

“I guess I need one of yours.”

“Guess you do. Did you want us to take this off?” She ran her fingers under the black collar as the intro to the program started, her free hand running through Auburn curls. 

“Can we please not? I like being yours. The collar, I guess it reinforces that for me. It makes me feel safe. You make me feel safe, Clarke.” She looked up into blue eyes and Clarke tugged her up by the collar, kissing her tenderly. 

“Okay, baby.”  
-  
They watched the entire hour and a half documentary, Lexa enraptured and Clarke herself riveted to the screen, always having found herself rather interested in the various cephalopods of the world, octopi especially, though she wouldn’t tell Lexa that. 

Speaking of, they lay together now, still in the same position on the bed, watching a documentary about gravitational relativity and the speed of space travel. Michio Kaku explaining in detail why traveling the speed of light is impossible, using a theoretical ship orbiting the super-massive black hole at the center of the galaxy as the gravitational example. 

She was caressing the detailed tattoo on Lexa’s right bicep with gentle strokes, considering whether Lexa would ever want another. 

“So the Humboldts are your favorite, right?” Clarke led, already imagining a future tattoo design in her head. 

“Yeah! They’re pretty awesome right?” She asked with a genuine grin, her eyes flicking up to lock on Clarke’s for a quick moment. 

“They really are. Way more intelligent than I thought they were, and the color-flashing communication thing? I didn’t know squids did that. But, um… Why I asked is because I was wondering if you’d like for me to design you a tattoo. For your other arm or this forearm or whatever. You know, of a Humboldt?” Lexa’s immediately excited squeak had Clarke chuckling as they both sat up only for the brunette to nearly tackle her in a hug. 

“Oh my God, Clarke! I would love that so much. I’ve always wanted one, but I’ve never trusted an artist to get the details right, you know. But you’re the most talented artist I know and I trust you more than anyone. With anything.” 

Clarke nodded, her heart beating faster in her chest just from hearing that. No one really seemed to trust her in her life. Not Raven, or Octavia, or Murphy. Not her mother… And though her father and Wells had trusted and believed in her without any doubts they were both gone now. So for Lexa to say that and mean it? 

Well, that overwhelming but hidden love for Lexa threatened to burst from her heart and spill from her lips. 

“Lexa…” Suddenly, she was crying, wrapping her arms around her beautiful sub and holding her close, years and years of compounding pain seeming to lessen just enough to allow her immense joy inside. 

“You okay, Clarke?” Lexa asked her with a small smile, Clarke loving the way it grew when she ghosted her fingers under the collar. 

“I’m more than okay, baby. You make me feel so… God, just… happy.”

Lexa reflected her wide smile back at her, accepting her gentle kiss and folding into her arms.  
“I’m glad. I feel like that with you too. Happy for once, and like you believe in me.” She admitted as Clarke hugged her tighter. 

“I really do. You’re amazing, Lexa. Soon enough I’m sure I’ll see you in a documentary, explaining about the future of scientific cell production outside the body and 3d printing some little girl’s new heart. Your future is so so bright. This world won’t know what hit it. The brightest young biochemist of our time, they’ll say.”

“You potter-nerd.” Lexa teased with a teary-eyed smiled, her gorgeous pools of deep forest green reflecting overwhelming adoration back at the smirking blonde. 

“Says you, Ravenclaw.” Lexa chuckled, nodding. 

“Hmm… That I am. Since we’re talking about it I honestly think Pottermore should’ve sorted you into another house just because of your name. That’s ridiculous. Griffin the Gryffindor?”

“Maybe. Raven once said I was Slytherin to the core.” Her eyes were suddenly all too sad again, and she turned her head, moving to curl in upon herself away from Lexa. 

“Hey, Clarke, no. She was wrong about you. And wrong for saying it just to hurt you. If… If you’re a Slytherin it’s only in the best of ways. Cunning, ambitious, creative, resourceful. You’re all of those things. And even if they could be taken in a negative way, those qualities are some of the best parts of you. I admire your intelligence, your drive to make your father proud by making something amazing of yourself. Your artistic creativity, your ability to make something amazing out of nothing.”

“Please just know that… Clarke I love those things about you. I admire and adore you for who you are. Positives and negatives alike. All of you. Please look at me.” Clarke was clearly sobbing, and Lexa rubbed her trembling shoulders, reaching around to turn the blonde towards her and take her into her arms. 

The Domme held her tightly, as if afraid to let go, her sobs slowly falling away until her strong frame seemed to shake every once and awhile. 

“I’m right here. I’m here, and I want you no matter what stupid house you’re in or what people who don’t see you like I do say you are. You’re beautiful, and bright, and so kind-hearted. You, Clarke Griffin, are wonderful and if given the chance I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.” Clarke turned her gaze toward her submissive, deep, infinite love shining up at her from glimmering pools of sky blue. 

Not that Lexa could tell exactly what that overwhelming emotion was. Only that it warmed her heart and drove her to lean down and connect their lips. Clarke rolled them over carefully, pressing Lexa down into the bed and dominating her mouth, needy hands caressing her collar before slipping down further and under Lexa’s shirt. 

The brunette moaned as blunted fingernails raked roughly up her ribs, Clarke’s strong but careful hands palming her breast and teasing her nipple with a wandering thumb. 

“Uhn…touch me, Clarke. I’m yours. I’m ready.” Clarke slipped her fingers below the warm collar that stood out starkly against Lexa’s neck, using it to pull her mouth closer. When they broke for air she stared into green eyes, watching her sub’s reactions with a sharp gaze. 

“You’re sure? Absolutely?” Lexa’s firm nod and the roll of her hips up into Clarke’s thigh was her answer but Clarke held fast.

“Yes, Ma’am. Please.” She moaned desperately, still rutting against the strong thigh until Clarke repositioned a bit to take away any chance of pressure. 

“Okay, baby. Tell me then. Clothes on or off? Color?”

“Off. Please all off. Green, Clarke.” Clarke nodded, sitting up just enough to peel off her shirt while Lexa did the same for herself. When they lay back down, their breasts pressed together and Lexa moaned, immediately reaching up to palm what she could of Clarke’s. 

Her hands were taken though, both pinned above her head and lead to grip around the strong wooden poles that made up that section of the headboard. 

“No touching, Lexa. Right now this is about making you come. And you will, but only when I say so. You understand?” Lexa’s quiet moan and the way she rolled her hips up, her head falling back into the pillow to expose her elegant neck had Clarke growling, crawling forward to suck a dark hickey into existence just above her collar. 

All together, it created an image Clarke knew she’d be painting soon enough. She shifted down to suck an already pebbled nipple between her lips, thrashing against it with her tongue and nipping down just enough to make the pitch of Lexa’s answering cry higher. 

“Cla…rke!” 

Lexa’s nipples were clearly pretty sensitive, and Clarke intended to take full advantage. However she did take note, just to remind herself to find out exactly how sensitive they were. Whether or not nipple clamps were used in the future would depend on it, and her ideas surrounding that image were plentiful. 

“Hips up, Lexa.” The brunette whined pitifully as she raised her hips, all too thankful when Clarke pulled off her shorts, exposing her to the cool air of the bedroom. Clarke didn’t immediately move to touch her, and her hands twitched against the hard wood of the headboard, desperate to dive between her own wet thighs. 

She watched as Clarke climbed off the bed, pulling off the rest of her own clothes and leaning down to slide what sounded like a rolling flat tote from under the bed. Lexa could only hear her moving things around, completely unaware of what was next to come. 

When she stood, red silk ties tumbled over her hands in a bundle, her eyes dark and predatory as she tied Lexa’s hands to the headboard in intricate and tight knots. 

“Pull on these for me, baby.” And she did. They were tight around her wrists and the rods on headboard, but there was a good comfortable six inches of slack between so they could rearrange later on if they needed to. 

“Perfect, Clarke.”

“Good. I’m going to tighten the slack for now, and if you need to Red, either of us will pull on this length, kay?” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” She breathed deep as the length between her wrists and the headboard was shortened and Clarke climbed back on the bed. Gentle fingers immediately pressing firmly against her clit for a full five seconds before slipping lower and gathering up some of the warm slickness gushing from Lexa’s starkly empty entrance. 

Her moans filled the room, a gasp stealing her breath as those fingers rose to draw tight circles around her clit. 

“Clarke… yesss. Please.” Leaning down to lay claim to her lovers soft mouth, Clarke dipped two fingers inside her, moaning at the feel and ignoring her earlier plan to have Lexa suck her fingers clean. First she’d make her come, then the games would begin and she’d see just how capable Lexa was at holding back her approaching orgasm until she was given the command to let go. 

“… Clarke, hmm. I love having you touch me. Your fingers… So good.”

Clarke hummed, watching Lexa as she pushed shapely hips down onto her fingers, a rhythm to the swift fucking falling into place all of a sudden. 

Soon enough, Lexa’s loud moans and surprised gasps when Clarke massaged searching fingers along her inner walls fell into quieter, more desperate exhalations. She desperately gripped the dowels of the wooden headboard, her need to have something to hold onto when she falls over the edge taking hold. 

“Close, baby?” Lexa clearly tried to answer, but all that tumbled from her lips was a quiet whimper, her hips still to try and keep herself from coming without express permission. 

After a few moments, during which Clarke had let up some to keep from pushing her over, she was finally able to speak somewhat though she only uttered one word. 

“Clarke…” It came out as a tiny, choked off sob of the blonde’s name, and she looked down at her domme with dark forest eyes full of tears, a kind of desperation in her gaze that was unfamiliar. 

“Oh, baby it’s okay. I’m right here love. Come on, come for me. Come for me right now Lexa. 

In the end it wasn’t the press of insistent fingers against her g spot or the palm against her clit that made her come, but the way Clarke carefully but roughly bit down on her nipple. 

Strong thighs trembled around Clarke’s hand as she removed her fingers, gripping one of them while shifting up the bed to tangle her dominant left hand into Lexa’s hair and press gentle, loving kisses against her lush lips.

Lexa was still crying, falling slack and submissive and taking what her domme gave her, letting her mouth be gently conquered. She felt sensitive and vulnerable, emotional. She didn’t know how to stop crying and the only thing that was soothing over her sudden and unwelcome heartache was the weight and comfort of Clarke laying over her. 

When the blonde lifted herself into her elbows to look at her, gaze watchful and concerned, Lexa uttered the only words she could think of. 

“Yellow.” Orange felt more accurate, but that wasn’t on the scale, and they hadn’t discussed it. She didn’t know what else to say, or how to explain how she felt. She needed help. She needed Clarke. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Let’s slow down. Did you want to put some clothes back on? Want me to get dressed?” Lexa shook her head, pulling on her ties frantically when she remembered she could just reach out to stop Clarke sitting up, moving away from her. Her need for her domme to stay close was raw and all-consuming. 

“No, please…Clarke!” Her chest shook with heavier sobs when the blonde wasn’t immediately back laying over her. 

“Okay, I’m here, beautiful. I’m sorry, I’m right here. I’m not leaving, baby girl.” She laid back over her, reaching up to swiftly untie her wrists, gently lowering her arms and massaging along them to make sure Lexa’s blood was circulating correctly. 

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I don’t even know what’s wrong. I just feel so raw and vulnerable. Just please stay with me.” Clarke looked massively worried about her, and she lay out even more completely over her, like last night on the couch, surrounding the rattled sub in her presence the best she knew how. 

“I understand, love. And I’m here. For as long as you need this we’ll just stay connected today. Is that okay?” Lexa just nodded, grateful that she could breath steadily and her Domme was so near. Clarke’s scent surrounded her from all angles, and the woman’s arms wrapped around her; gentle hands massaging at her back and shoulder blades helped her focus and relax, some of the tension and tightness disappearing under Clarke's skilled hands. 

They stayed that way for what Lexa knew had to be over an hour, trading occasional soft kisses until she felt mostly like herself again. 

“Thank you, Clarke. You always… you always make me feel safe, and important… loved. I still don’t really understand what triggered it, or why it shook me up so much. I’ve never really dropped like that before, or at all. I’m just glad it’s you who’s my Domme. I trust you more than I could’ve ever trusted anyone.”

“You are those things here with me. All of the above. And I’m glad you trust me, Lexa. I know how difficult that is for you, and I feel the same. It means the entire world to me to hear those words from you especially. You mean more to me than I could ever manage to express through words. I’m just glad you feel better, sweetheart. I hate to see you hurting…but tell me how you’re feeling. Sore? Achy?”

The way Clarke looked at her, her gaze loving and affectionate… well, Lexa couldn’t really describe the way it made her feel. Sometimes… often; she looked at Clarke and felt her love for the beautiful Domme overwhelm her like a too tall wave sweeping her out to sea. It was overwhelming, and painful, but also it brought her joy. Because in times like these she swore that same love was reflecting right back at her. 

She knew neither of them were ready for the words. They were hurt, bent in far too many places, their hearts and souls dented and scraped like some old beater. But eventually, sooner or later… They would reach a point in their healing processes where they could say the words and be ready for what Lexa sincerely hoped was a long and happy future together. 

“Just a little bit, Clarke. My arms, thighs, and back. But I’m okay.” Her smile was genuine and seeing Clarke’s wide and beautiful grin in return only made it wider. The softest little series of kisses was placed upon her lips, then her forehead and nose, her cheeks. 

“Mmmkay. Well if my baby’s sore, I have a plan to help you relax. That okay, love?” Lexa nodded, wondering what Clarke intended to do. 

“Green, Clarke.”

“Kay, peachy. I’m gonna get up, but I’m taking you with me, okay?” With an affirmative nod from the her sub, Clarke slipped from the bed, quickly leaning back over to lift Lexa into her arms, making sure strong thighs were secure around her hips. She carried Lexa into her bathroom, setting her on her vanity before she leaned over the large jacuzzi tub to start filling it with hot water. On her way to the closet that held her toiletries she stopped to accept a kiss from Lexa, humming in pleasure when the Sub raked her nails up her rib cage. 

She grabbed a nondescript box, setting it at her feet before pulling out some lavender bubble bath and a few towels. Quickly hanging the towels on the warmer and pouring in the bubble bath as the water filled, Clarke turned with a grin to Lexa, opening the box and removing five or six candles. 

Lexa’s immediately excited smile had her standing to set the candles in safe places around the bathroom, lighting those and shutting off the water for the now filled tub. She dimmed the lights in the room, carefully lifting Lexa when she reached her. 

“Clarke, this is so nice. Thank you. Lavender bubble bath, lilac candles. You spoil me.” Clarke climbed into the tub with a pleased hum, shifting Lexa to lay against her chest. 

“It’s not spoiling if you deserve it, love. And you most certainly do. There’s also another box of candles in the cabinet that I bought for you a few weeks ago. There’s twelve, three different scents. I was saving it for a gift. To congratulate you for finishing your first year of your PhD program.” Lexa sighs with her softest little smile, reaching for the free hand that wasn’t combing through her hair to link she and Clarke’s fingers together. 

“I could stay like this with you forever…”

“Hmm, not sure I want to be a human prune, baby.” She was chuckling, bringing their tied hands up to kiss Lexa’s knuckles. 

“I’m serious, Clarke. And I don’t mean in the bath. I mean together… With you; that kind of forever. I mean I know forever is a long time, and I’m not trying to pressure you into anything but I just… I love being with you. Close to you. I could imagine us like this after we’re both done with school. Even further along. I know there are words neither of us feel ready to say for a dozen different reasons, and neither of us knows where we’ll be or what we we’ll be doing after we finally graduate with our PhDs but whatever that is… Wherever that is, Clarke; I want us to still be an us, a we. I want to - God, I don’t know. I just want to be with you. I don’t want anyone else. I just want you, beautiful. Always.”

Clarke is speechless, though entirely because she’s forcing herself to think before she speaks. If she opens her mouth to speak right now thoughtlessly she knows exactly what she’ll say. 

‘I’m so fucking in love with you.’ 

It’ll slip right between her lips and endanger their relationship, she’s sure. Because Lexa is right. They both have excellent, thoughtful reasons for why they haven’t said those words to each other. Lexa not being ready is number one on her own list, and Clarke outright refuses to rush her into something she just Isn’t ready for quite yet. They just have to be patient with each other, take the time to heal their hearts, minds, and souls the best they can. Maybe even try and learn what they each see in the other to see those qualities in themselves. 

That’s not to say that Clarke believes in that bullshit quote about having to love oneself before you can truly love another. She loves Lexa with a fullness of heart that she never thought possible after she lost her father and Wells, having been so sure that she’d lost at least half the spiritual part of the fist sized organ when first her dad and then Wells took their last breaths. 

But as for loving herself… well that? That she’s working on. And with someone like Indra to help her, and the forest of Lexa’s awe inspiring eyes reflecting up at her like she really is the sun and sky? Clarke truly believes for the first time that she’ll get there one day. 

For now having Lexa’s trust, faith, and adoring affection is more than enough. 

“I’m so glad you feel the same I could sing. And I really do love that you feel safe enough to open up to me this way. I want us to be an us too, Lexa. And I honestly think that if we’re thoughtful and careful about our planning, we can do that. We can be together. I know you told me that you want to focus on research work in labs, for example. I want to work in materials research. Carbon nanotube stuff, for example. I’m sure that if we try hard enough we can find jobs doing that stuff here in Boston, with the Uni’s for example. I mean, I just really very much love this apartment and I wouldn’t want to leave it unless we had to move to find a place to live that would have labs for the both of us.”

“That sounds perfect. That’s exactly what I want our future to look like. But I think that with everything considered, maybe we should take things slow? One step at a time. So we can both do what we need to do about getting help, and making sure we’re still focusing on school. And we’re also not rushing each other. These things take time, I know. But I think the great thing about us going that route will be that we can take the scenic route… have romantic nights like this one, plan dates for each other and everything that we’ve both missed out on, you know? I want those things with you.”

“That sounds wonderful, baby. I suppose we should sync schedules so I can plan a date soon. I’m pretty sure I saw something about a cephalopod exhibit at the New England Aquarium in the mail last week. Maybe we could spend the day there, come home to change, and have dinner at Yvonne’s?” 

Lexa’s surprised and excited smile curves her full lips up in the most beautiful way, and Clarke help but to lean down and kiss her softly and hope the kiss and the way she gently caresses her gorgeous jaw says the things she can’t. 

The water is luke warm, their fingers fully pruning now, so Clarke shifts to stand, carefully stepping out of the tub and helping Lexa out behind her. Warm towels await them, and Clarke wraps Lexa up first, cradling her shivering form against her own as she quickly dries herself and lays a worshipful kiss against Lexa’s forehead. She leans over to sweep her up into her arms like a newlywed bride, loving the feel of Lexa chuckling against her neck. 

Once she’s laid the still grinning brunette on the bed, she takes to drying her off swiftly, peeling the towel away and tossing it back into the bathroom to clean up once Lexa’s fallen asleep. 

“On your stomach for me, sweetheart.” Lexa does so without question, earning a soft squeeze of her tantalizing ass. Clarke reaches into her bedside drawer to retrieve a bottle of lavender chamomile massage oil she sometimes rubs onto her own chest to help her sleep. 

She climbs back up onto the bed then straddles Lexa’s body, settling just before her thighs meet her ass for now. The scent of the oil when she pours it into her hands is all too familiar, and she rubs her hands together before starting at the small of the back where she herself tends to hold tension after long days, her experienced hands falling into muscle memory as she works out what feels like an uncomfortable tightness in the strong muscle there. 

While she’s working, heartbroken blue eyes take in the patchwork of scars, burns, and tattoos that makes up Lexa’s back. It could never change how much Clarke loves her. Almost nothing could, but it really does break her heart and make her realize how important it is that they get help. 

If the physical abuse was this bad, how terrible was the mental and emotional abuse? How horribly did he scar Lexa’s heart? Her beautiful mind? 

It’s all something to make note of and focus on. Just later. 

Lexa is groaning quietly at the relief, relaxing even more when Clarke has completely pushed out the tension and moved further up her back, working more firmly there. 

Half an hour later, Clark has just finished Lexa’s strong shoulders and her dominant right arm and is massaging both major muscles of the upper left arm, eying Lexa’s jello like posture. Whatever tension or tightness she was carrying around is gone, and Clarke can’t help but be proud. She’s never seen Lexa this relaxed. 

The issue is how tight and knotted Lexa’s muscles were. Clarke is well aware of how hard Lexa works. Both in school and at the accounting office for which she is employed, but for her to be walking around everyday like this? This uncomfortable and in potential pain? She’s worried about her. So from now on she’ll do this for her girl at least twice a week if they can fit the nearly hour long full body massage in. If not, once a week will have to do. 

While she was in her head worried about her sub, her hands had moved of their own volition finishing the forearm and wrist and starting on Lexa’s palm. Those long, elegant, fingers are next, and eventually she stretches her own, taking a small break to kiss Lexa’s lips when she turns her head to gaze up at her with the content smile. 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m just glad to make you feel a little better.”

“A lot better, Clarke.” She lays her head back down, long eyelashes fluttering as she settles into a zone halfway between waking and sleeping. 

“Good then. You should get used to it. You get these massages twice a week now. Go ahead and relax, I’ve got your legs to finish.” Her answer is a pleased hum, and Clarke just chuckles as she settles near the end of the bed with freshly oiled hands again, carefully massaging Lexa’s right side toes so as not to tickle her. A low moan pierces the room when she moves up to the arch of her foot, applying extra pressure the way she tends to for her own feet. 

As long as she’s been doing this, it’s relatively swift work, and she finishes the first leg and is half way up Lexa’s other thigh within ten minutes. Here, she takes a bit more time, her mind conjuring up the memory of massaging Lexa’s legs the night before and how Lexa had wanted to beg to be touched. Shifting both herself and Lexa’s legs further apart, Clarke doesn’t stop this time when she reaches the junction between those glorious thighs, nudging her knuckles against warmth and wetness. 

Lexa is awake, somehow. An immediate moan following when she touched her. 

“Color, baby?”

“Green, please.” Her plea is desperate, and Clarke can understand. She’s just as aroused. Just as desperate, only to touch instead of be touched. This entire massage has felt like a tease for them both, she knows. 

“Spread a little more for me, Lex.” She groans immediately, perfect thighs spreading enough to shift comfortably between and slip one and then two fingers inside. Clarke moans, dying to taste but knowing how completely and utterly uncomfortable that would be in this position. So she redoubled her efforts towards helping Lexa come this way, with her fingers pressing against her front wall every time she pulls out on to thrust inside again. 

Clarke is gentle and skilled, knowing how hard this orgasm will be without the added potential soreness of a rough fucking. 

“Clarrrrke… can we… slow. Don’ wanna come without permission.” Clarke shushed her, zippingher free fingers up the notches of her spine. 

“You’re okay, Lex. This one is yours, Kay? Relax for me.” Lexa only whimpers against the occasional soft caress of her clit, her breathing growing quick and heavy as she nears the precarious cliff Clarke is fully intent on letting her fall from. 

She comes with a choked off gasp, her inner walls gripping so tight it nearly hurts. Strong, lightly tanned shoulders tremble along with Lexa’s aftershocks, and she whines when Clarke’s fingers finally do leave her. 

The blonde crawls up to curl around her back, laying reverent kisses against the flushed, sweating, skin of those shoulders. She extends their hands to link fingers, stroking her knuckles and humming quietly. 

“You okay, baby?” Lexa nods against the sheets, curling their linked hands up to kiss Clarke’s knuckles with an exhausted smile. 

“Better than. Thank you. So comfortable. I love you on top of me, Bae. Tired though.” 

“Sleep, Lex. I’ve got you.” Lexa is quiet for a minute or so, thoughtful. 

“I’ve got you too, Clarke. You know that right?”

“I know, love. Thank you. Now sleep. Well both be pretty damn busy this week. Then we both have finals and I graduate. We’ll have to find time for our date.”

“You’re really taking me to Yvonne’s?” 

“I really am. I know how much you’ve wanted to go.” Lexa’s happy sigh brought a smile to her lips and she pressed another set of adoring kisses to her skin. 

“And cephalopods?”

“And cephalopods, you cute little dork. Go to sleep.”


End file.
